~Chapter 101~
“Whew…”
I let out a nervous breath and looked at the table in front of me.
On top of the white lace-covered table was a pure white plate, holding rice cakes coated in red sauce.
It was tteokbokki—no, according to Emily’s recipe, it was called Spicy Flour Dough.
‘Since the plate and tablecloth are white, the red stands out even more.’
Wanting to serve it beautifully, I even placed a vase with flowers beside it for decoration.
“Alright. Everything’s ready now…”
It was time to use this dish for its true purpose.
I closed my eyes and touched the ring.
‘…Fabian.’
The man whose name always made me feel better whenever I thought of him.
‘Fabian, Fabian, Fabian, Fabian, Fabian, Fabian.’
After repeating his name endlessly in my heart—
When I opened my eyes… Fabian was standing right in front of me, arms crossed, looking annoyed.
“…The ring.”
He realized immediately that I hadn’t called him for something serious, but instead for another reason.
“If you keep using it like this, I’ll just take it back.”
“Haha, sorry. But you never know when something real might happen…”
I laughed awkwardly and hid my hand with the ring behind my back.
“This time, I thought it would be better to call you directly rather than go to the Magic Tower. That’s why I summoned you.”
Because really, tteokbokki tastes best when it’s eaten right away. If I carried it all the way to the tower, the rice cakes would just get soggy.
That’s what teleportation is for, isn’t it? To use it properly in times like this!
I smiled and pointed proudly at the neatly set table.
“Ta-da.”
“…?”
“Try it, Fabian. You might not like it, but it’s definitely a new taste.”
Fabian’s eyes followed my hand toward the plate.
Seeing the unfamiliar, bright red food, his brows furrowed deeply.
‘Haha… Well, it does look kind of dangerous.’
“It’s called tteokbo—uh, I mean, Spicy Flour Dough.”
Fabian’s nose twitched faintly.
It seemed like even someone who had lived as long as him had never smelled something this spicy before.
“Just try it first.”
“…!”
I gently pushed him forward, and he ended up standing in front of the table.
I even pulled out the chair and made him sit down.
“Here, use the fork. But be careful—it might be spicy.”
“….”
Fabian sat down reluctantly, staring at the plate with suspicion.
Still, I could see a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
With a quiet sigh, he slowly picked up the fork. His movements were graceful, as always, even when he stabbed a rice cake and lifted it carefully.
‘Is he really eating tteokbokki like it’s steak? Well, he is the male lead…’
I gulped nervously and watched him take a bite.
He chewed slowly, as if savoring the taste—just like when he used to enjoy whiskey.
Then, suddenly—he froze.
‘…Huh?’
Fabian stopped moving completely.
His face began to turn red.
He dropped the fork onto the table and quickly turned his head away.
“…Cough.”
Cough, cough!
He started coughing, his face bright red.
“Are… are you okay?”
I panicked. Was it too spicy?
After coughing hard, he glared at the dish with a look of disgust.
“What is this…?”
“Sorry! I guess it’s way too spicy. I didn’t realize, because it didn’t feel spicy at all to me.”
Well, maybe that was because I had Korean taste buds inside this soul…
‘No, wait. Even Irene didn’t think it was too spicy. Sophie said it was fine too.’
Which meant…
‘Fabian, you’re weak to spicy food!’
Through logical reasoning, I reached the conclusion that Fabian was especially bad with spicy flavors.
Maybe next time, I should make it less spicy…
But then—
I tilted my head. Something sparkled at the corner of his eyes.
No way…
“Fabian, are you crying?”
“….”
Fabian quickly turned his head, clearly embarrassed.
My heart began to race.
Fabian—did he really cry?
“Fabian, this is your first time crying in your whole life, isn’t it? That’s what this is, right? These are tears, right?”
“…No.”
“What do you mean, no? Of course they’re tears. Reflex tears!”
To make him—the man who seemed like he had no blood or tears—actually cry…!
Even if it was just reflex tears from the spice, it was still amazing.
My heart pounded wildly.
It was Fabian’s first tears, and I was the one who made it happen.
I felt a strange, almost wicked sense of satisfaction.
It felt like I had accomplished something great.
I couldn’t stop smiling, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
I had to force myself to hide my grin for a while.
“……”
The Magic Tower.
Fabian’s office was completely dark.
In that darkness, Fabian stood in front of a mirror, staring at his own face.
He could swear—he had never once truly looked at himself in a mirror.
Only when he needed to keep up appearances as the Tower Master.
He had never cared about how he looked, what kind of expression he made, or anything like that.
Yet… in all the hundreds of years he had lived, this was the first time he had ever shed tears.
Fabian recalled the moment when he tasted that strange food Irene had served him.
The instant he bit into it, his tongue felt like it was burning.
Heat spread across his whole face, gathering in his nose and eyes.
And then, naturally—
A single tear fell.
At first, Fabian hadn’t even realized it was a tear.
It was only when Irene had asked, “Fabian, are you crying?” that he became aware of it.
Fabian turned his head away from the mirror.
On top of his desk, a small dish sat quietly. The food Irene had given him.
[“I’ll pack the leftovers for you. Eat it later when you’re alone. The feeling you just had—it’s fresh, isn’t it? Oh, and next time I’ll make it less spicy. You seem to be weak against spice, Fabian!”]
He had refused, but Irene had insisted, pressing that fiery red dish into his hands.
Fabian picked up the fork and stabbed a piece, lifting it slowly. He held it in front of him for a long while, considering whether to put it in his mouth… then suddenly set the fork down.
…What am I even doing?
Fabian frowned and stepped back.
Lately, he had been feeling things he couldn’t understand.
Were these the emotions ordinary humans feel?
He didn’t know. It confused him.
Even his own actions now felt strange and unfamiliar.
“…Ha.”
With a sigh, his eyes shifted elsewhere.
To the little dolls and trinkets scattered around his office—things Irene had brought, saying his room was too gloomy.
Instead of eating, Fabian walked over and picked something up from among them.
He stared at it quietly for a long while.
In his hand, something fluttered softly.
It was the purple cloak Irene had given him.
